Object 256: The Diary of Dr Renfrew
by London-Green
Summary: The diary of Dr Richard Renfrew, administrator of Graystark Hall Orphanage, as found by the FBI, concerning the ongoing investigation Operation Silence. *This focuses on the most mysterious character of 'Day of the Moon' in Series 6.*
1. Chapter 1

Property of the Federal Bureau of Investigations, intended only for personnel with Code: Lunar clearance, by the order of President Richard Milhous Nixon, Commander in Chief

* * *

><p>The following is a an unedited sample from the end of the Diary of Dr Richard Mark Renfrew, administrator of Graystark Hall Orphanage, Cape Canaveral, Florida<p>

**Log: 1****st**** March 1967**

Not much trouble with the orphans today. Christopher possessed a slight fever and remains tired, and Marie and Jessica continue to fight and argue constantly, but most of the children seem happy enough. I must keep an eye on those girls. Mrs Morgan disciplined them quickly while Ms Trent waved the rest onto the bus for school- sometimes I wonder how I'd manage without the help of those two angels.

**4****th**** March 1967**

Last night Samuel woke up the whole orphanage screaming. I almost had a heart-attack, it was the most inhuman sound, like an animal in pain, shrieking for its very life. However after I ran into his room he seemed fine, couldn't even remember what scared him. Funny isn't it, how the memories of dreams and nightmares slip so quickly upon waking?

He slipped off back to sleep with no trouble, as did most of the other students who rushed into the hall. Mrs Morgan remarked that she was much relieved that there was no danger.

**6****th**** March 1967**

I heard footsteps, whispering voices outside the windows. I slipped outside with my old family revolver. I was being silly though; there was nothing but the tall, dark shapes of the fir trees that surround the orphanage. Naturally we've all heard stories of sick men with prying figures out for small children, so I stood and waited for any sign of intruders.

There was nothing though, just silence.

Another note- lucky that there wasn't any trespassers sneaking outside the orphanage. I'd only loaded 5 bullets into my revolver. I must be losing it in my age, I could have sworn I loaded 6.

**12th March 1967**

Just found the diary. I'd left it in the attic after going up to look at some of the photos of the children we used to have staying with us. I just could not remember where I had left it.

**14th March 1967**

Rather peculiar event at arts today. The children were painting again, with Thomas doing some lovely painting of horses, and Samantha's finger painting coming on well, the little thing. But Louise's painting was of her and a tall bald man. It was a quite fine painting, apart from the mess she made of his hands. I asked her who it was of, and she said it was the Quiet Dream Man who visited us sometimes, but she didn't know when.

Of course there's no such visitor to the institute, but it's still an odd fantasy for an orphan, having a man visit but not adopt her. Still her mother was an odd one apparently before she was in that house fire a few years back, doing psychic reading and séances and whatnot. I guess oddness is in the blood.

**26****th**** March 1967**

I woke up last night in a corridor, having slept walk. It was an funny experience, it's the first time I've done it.

**28****th**** March 1967 **

I've slept walked for the fourth night now. Ms Trent said that she heard me murmuring as I walked past their room.

itstares- itstares itstares itst -

rememberrichardgodhelp

**2****nd**** April 1967**

I keep finding these odd scribbles in my diary, one of the children playing tricks on me probably. I'll watch out for any more intrusions into my office. They left a mess last time they broke into it. Whichever one did it will be most sternly punished.

**15****th**** April 1967**

After dinner tonight I'm going to gather the children, Mrs Morgan and Ms Trent into the rec room for an announcement. It slips my mind what it's going to be though, I'll think of something when I'm there.

Nice and quiet tonight. I can't hear the children chattering through the walls. With this nice silence I'll get some rest.

**16****th**** April 1967**

I can't find a soul in the house today. Ms Trent and Mrs Morgan must have taken the boys and girls out for the day. They've left a complete mess downstairs though, there's rags strewn all about the rec room. I must have a word with them when they get back

**25****th**** April 1967**

There's no one in the orphanage today. Must be a school trip today for the orphans- they deserve the break, they've been so good recently. The rec room is in a horrid mess though, stains everywhere, stuff flung all over the floor. They must change their ways, or otherwise all of the children will have extra chores- it's only fair.

**25****th**** April 1967**

There's no one in the orphanage today. Must be a school trip today for the orphans- they deserve the break, they've been so good recently. The rec room is in a horrid mess though, stains everywhere, stuff flung all over the floor. They must change their ways, or otherwise all of the children will have extra chores- it's only fair.

Silly me.

**26****th**** April 1967**

Alone where are they what did I do what did they do


	2. Chapter 2

**7****th**** August 1967**

The orphanage has been quietly recently, the children must be sleeping .

Luckily though I've been given another little task to keep me busy. I received a new child, Melody, today. She's a sweet child, so I let her pick whichever one of the empty rooms she wanted. The first thing she did was get out the photos of all her departed mother, bless her.

I must take special care to make sure Melody is healthy and safe. Yes, I must.

I just got back from rounds. All the children are still sleeping soundly, but I heard crying from Melody's room. It never gets any easier watching a child get over the loss of parents

**3****rd**** June 1967**

I expected a visit from the DSS this week. I guess something must have kept the usual gentleman.

Melody is well. Good good.

**4th April 1967**

Melody went out today, I looked up and she was gone. Like magic. I'm sure she'll have a lovely time.

She left the room in a disgraceful state though, her belongings were strewn everywhere, and she's damaged her bed- there's two groups of four dents on one of the bars at the end of it, with another dent under each of these groups. She also scratched long lines to the door from her bed too- I'll ask her nicely not to do it again. It won't do

**27****th**** April 1967**

Delivery man made an error with the food again, there's only enough for two here.

**13****th**** April 1967**

Melody still seems timid, the poor thing. She just spends all her time up in her room, and shrinks into her bed whenever I open the door.

**7****th**** August 1967**

Everything's well. Weather's awful though, who'd expect snow in August?

I found graffiti on the wall of the staircase. Makes no sense at all, "GET OUT". I wonder why one of the children would want me out of the orphanage- I couldn't possibly leave, Melody needs me.

**29****th**** August 1967**

Melody is well, as I suppose are the other children. The staff are quiet too.

I must have fainted today, haven't done that since I was a boy. Mrs Morgan and Ms Trent were nice enough to take me to bed though. When I fell I cut myself though, but they bandaged my arms nicely- though the lines beneath are still bleeding slightly.

**5****th**** January 1967**

More graffiti, I have no idea where it's coming from. I should lock up the red paint after arts sessions, that should put a stop to it.

Sleeping worse, and day dreaming from lack of rest. When I come to I have writing on myself now, much like the graffiti. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. One of life's little mysteries. Melody is well, good.

**8****th**** April 1967 **

Just did last rounds checking on the children- all resting peacefully. It's just silence upstairs. Melody is well, excellent, she's been tired recently, been out and about.

Don't know what I'd do if something happened to her, she's a favourite.

**29 November 1967**

She's gone, I failed, the red-headed woman and those men took her from us. The building is empty now, the orphans aren't even rustling overhead. I'm trying to think of other options, other institutes where I could work, but one idea cuts through the rest, shows what I have to do. I can no longer care for her, so there's nothing else

I'll look fine at least, in my best black suit. This is my last entry. I leave everything to Melody Pond.

It's going to be very quiet soon.


End file.
